Then, I adjust my position a little. Test my body by sliding a short way along his length as he hardens within me again.
As he starts to move, slowly this time, I meet his eyes.
I can’t stop my heated smile.
I will never get enough of him.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Hours later, my body is aching in the best of ways.
I’m lying on the keeper’s chest, my upper leg hooked over his hips, my fingers tracing his side.
Many times, I thought to stop, to conserve his energy, but each time, he pulled me back to him with a need I couldn’t deny.
Now, his breathing is deep, his eyes half-closed.
I don’t want to break the contact, don’t want this quiet to end, but my body needs to be taken care of.
“I’m going to the bathroom,” I whisper to him, pressing a kiss to his lips before I shimmy out of his arms.
“Okay.”
The rush of liquid between my legs is a new experience for me. I’ve made good use of the sheets multiple times over the last few hours. Now, too, I tear a few strips off the edge of the top sheet and wipe my thighs before I head to the bathroom to wash and pee.
When I return, the keeper’s eyes are barely open. He’s lying half under the sheet, half on top of it, his tall, muscular frame taking up more of the bed than I realized when I was so close to him.
“I didn’t want to close my eyes until you got back,” he rumbles softly.
I adjust the sheet so I can slip under it with him, nestling against his side and resting my head on his shoulder. Some of the mattress was torn up by the edges of my feathers, but I ignore the ragged bits.
“It’s okay,” I whisper. “Sleep now.”
By the time I’ve stopped speaking, his eyes are already closed. Within seconds, he seems to be fast asleep.
Of course, there have been times when Ithoughthe was asleep and he wasn’t, so I wait a few moments before I whisper, “Keeper?”
He doesn’t reply. His breathing remains deep.
It’s just as well.
He wouldn’t let me do what I’m about to do. Not alone, anyway.
It’s a good thing my pack isn’t here yet. They wouldn’t let me go alone, either. By the time they get here, I’ll be long gone and they won’t know to where.
They won’t be able to find me, and that’s how I need things to be.
James wasn’t wrong.
If I fight my battles with the keeper at my side, or my pack backing me up, then my enemies—my real enemies—will think that I’m weak.
I can’t be seen as a feeble leader with a strong army, because then my adversaries will believe I’m nothing without that army. They will seek to destroy that army. And if I reveal how much my pack means to me, they’ll seek to hurt me by hurting my pack.
As true as all that is, I need to prove the opposite.
Iprotect my pack.
Not the other way around.
